Football Didn’t Reward Me Fully… Missing
African Player of the Year Still Stings, Says Okocha
In a rare and introspective appearance on The Exchange podcast, Nigerian football legend Austin ‘Jay-Jay’ Okocha delivered a poignant revelation that struck at the heart of his otherwise glorious career, stating that the beautiful game did not fully reward his immense talents.
The iconic midfielder, whose name became synonymous with breathtaking skill and audacious showmanship, opened up about the one honour that eluded him and the lingering sense of incompletion it brings. Hosted by Femi Soneye, the conversation in the ‘White Room’ delved beyond the iconic dribbles and cheers into the mind of the man behind the magic.
Soneye introduced Okocha as “the gold standard of skill, discipline and pure showmanship,” setting the stage for a dialogue that would traverse his entire journey, from the streets of Enugu to the world’s most prestigious stadiums.
While discussing the recognition he received globally, Okocha, known for his humility, turned candid when he was asked if he felt he got the recognition he truly deserved.
“Recognition yes, I mean people still recognize me… but I can say that I didn’t get the reward that I think I deserve,” Okocha stated, introducing a thread of unresolved professional heartache. He pinpointed the specific award that continues to be a sore point decades later: the CAF African Footballer of the Year. “I didn’t win CAF African Footballer of the year,” he revealed, highlighting a glaring anomaly in his trophy cabinet. “I think I might be the only person that I’ve not won both at the same time cause you can’t be good enough for one and not good enough for the other.” This was in stark reference to his back-to-back BBC African Player of the Year wins in 2003 and 2004, a popular award that contrasted sharply with his CAF snubs.
Beyond personal accolades, Okocha offered a sharp critique on the state of Nigerian football, tracing its decline to a specific moment: the aftermath of the 2002 Africa Cup of Nations. “The team was disbanded,” he explained to a nodding Femi Soneye. He lamented the poorly managed transition that followed, which he believes led to the loss of Nigeria’s feared reputation. “We made our home our fortress, but now it’s like we’re weak at home again… we’ve lost that fear factor.”
When the conversation turned to governance, Okocha did not shy away from his own difficult experience. Recalling his time as Chairman of the Delta State Football Association, which he famously termed a “woeful failure,” he cited a crippling lack of support and funding. “I had somebody that was not willing to work with me… I was using my money to run the FA,” he disclosed, explaining his decision to step away from a structure he found untenable.
However, the legendary playmaker left the door open for a future return to football administration at the national level, albeit reluctantly.
“Maybe because there’s nobody else left,” he said with a wry smile when Soneye asked if he would vie for the NFF presidency. He emphasized that his focus would be unflinching: “My focus will be us getting results… it’s a result business.” His most potent advice for the current NFF hierarchy was to urgently integrate former players into the system.
“They need to work with former players because some of us still have an effect on the current players,” he argued, drawing from his experience with the team at the last AFCON.
He stressed that the unique connection and respect a former international commands can be a decisive tool in motivating a squad. Amidst the reflections on systemic failure and personal slights, Okocha’s enduring passion for the game shone through.
He vehemently disagreed with the notion that modern players lack passion, asserting, “If you don’t love what you’re doing… you shouldn’t be doing it.”
He also fondly recalled the moments that defined his career, naming his legendary 1993 goal for Eintracht Frankfurt against Karlsruher SC and the iconic 1994 Olympic victory over Brazil as timeless highlights.
As the conversation drew to a close, the image of Austin Jay-Jay Okocha was complete: a genius fully aware of his gift, grateful for the adoration, yet forever marked by the formal validation he felt his artistry rightly earned.
His story remains one of unparalleled genius, with the missing CAF award serving as a quiet, enduring sting in an otherwise spectacular tale.
